Accidental
by Gray Fox In A Box
Summary: SnakeOcelot, after Operation Snake Eater, Snake finally figures out the clues he was given by Adamska. OneShot


**Title: **Accidental

**Pairing: **Snake/Ocelot

**Theme/Genre: **Drama/Romance?

**Rating: **R maybe? PG-13?

**Notes: **Cycle #18 challenge. Experimental, Enemy.

Ocelot made it a personal rule to never regret anything. Almost regretting something was not quite breaking the rule, but didn't strictly adhere to it. It was odd how many almost regrets he could have at once.

Regrets meant that you would have liked to have done something differently, admitting regret was admitting a mistake. Ocelot didn't make mistakes. Accidents did happen, but not mistakes.

It hadn't been a mistake to allow Volgin to order him into staying on base that night. It just so happened by accident that the Colonel should cross his path while he was on his way out.

Testing Tatyana with his revolvers hadn't been a mistake either. Snake had disrupted things of his own accord, and the loss of his eye was an accident.

Somehow, that accident in particular didn't sit well with him. John probably hated him for the lost eye, and in his slightly drunken state it didn't occur to Adamska to question why he cared if John hated him or not. The fact that it was an accident…

It would've been easier to deal with being hated if he'd shot the eye out intentionally, and then he could say that he deserved the hate, that it was a product of his own actions. But he couldn't even have that small consolation.

An accident had cost him Snake as an ally. That was alright, in fact, it was better than alright. As soon as Ocelot had approached Snake at the crevice he had known that being John's enemy would be much more rewarding than being his friend. Ocelot could be Snakes enemy, and Snake could be Ocelot's rival. The Major couldn't ignore the fact that in the end they were working for the same team.

It was just a pity that Ocelot was too busy being Snakes enemy for Adamska to be John's friend. Staring at a drink that Ocelot had promised himself would be the last, just like the other two last drinks that had gone before it. The ice was just beginning to melt, and he would rather down the thing at once now than let it get watered down.

The drink didn't burn as much as he would've liked, sensation dulled by repetition and alcohol. Dulled, and softened, like the memories that continued to play out in his head. They'd lost their painful sharpness, and had become smooth and rounded.

Some masochistic part of his mind volunteered the information that bullets didn't need to be sharp to hurt, they were smooth and sleek and polished and deadly. The fact that he can't be anything but an enemy to Snake resurfaces and this time Ocelot has the presence of mind to wonder why he cares.

Why he had made that last attempt, on the WIG, to tell Snake that he was an ally. That Snake hadn't caught it, or already hated him enough not to care. Toying with the empty chain around his neck, he realizes the truth. When his drunken mind finally churns up an answer as to why he cares, Adamska can't help but laugh. It's the same mocking laugh from when he was teasing Snake about his stance, but this time he's mocking himself.

In all honesty, Snake hadn't expected to be able to find him. Part of him was still maintaining that he had hallucinated Ocelot while he was in the white house. There was no way in hell a Soviet GRU Major was going to get outside the white house window while he was being given his award.

Was there? If anyone would've been able to pull it off, he had the feeling it would be Ocelot. He'd made a random search of DC, picking places he thought the boy major might be likely to visit, going almost franticly from place to place on occasion.

Initially, he'd been planning on dismissing the gun happy Russian's appearance. He didn't want yet another fight with Ocelot, after all, the WIG was supposed to have been their one last duel.

It hadn't been until he was having a small, obligatory celebration with the rest of the FOX unit that he'd decided to go find him. Conversation had died down. Then started up and died down a few more times as they drank more, Snake showing the most restraint with the alcohol.

Jack had been about to announce that he was calling a night when Para-medic (she'd said what her real name was, but hard as he tried Jack couldn't remember, she'd given up after the sixth time telling him) had asked if he ever found out what Ocelot's real name was.

Big Boss had opened his mouth to speak; the 'Aaah' sound was all that came out before his mind finally caught up with something it should've realized much, much sooner. _Adamska. Adam-ska. Adam. _At that point, he just halted, mouth open.

"Well?" Major Zero had asked after a moment, looking more interested in conversation than he had for some time, actually leaning forward to hear the answer to the big question. SIGINT was likewise paying attention.

"It was… something… starting with an A." Snake said finally. "Oh, I give up!" Para-medic said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Major Zero just rolled his eyes and leaned back in his large chair again. SIGINT had apparently found that amusing, and hadn't stopped laughing by the time Jack excused himself.

Feeling defeated and tired after his aimless, fruitless search, Jack steps into the nearest bar to bury his too-late realization in cheap alcohol. But when he does, the first thing he sees is an all too familiar blonde head. The uniform is gone, replaced by casual civilian clothing that only serves to make the Ocelot Major even younger looking.

A smile spreads across Jacks face, one that reaches his good eye. When he speaks, he places emphasis on the blonde's name. "I thought I might find you, here, Adam."

Ocelot thinks for a moment that he's had too much to drink, but part of his mind tells him he'll never get so drunk that he hallucinates. If the voice isn't a figment of his imagination, it can only belong to one person. Adamska turns slightly and looks up into that single blue eye.

John doesn't hate him. He can tell from the sound of the man's voice and the smile on his face. The smile is contagious, and despite his best efforts, Adamska has to smile too, unable to block it or even change it into a smirk or a grin. "I've been waiting for you," Adamska says, and despite the fact that he had meant it to be a lie, he's telling the truth for once.

Jack doesn't need to wait for an invitation that isn't going to come and sits down next to Adam, patting him on the back as though they've been friends for years. The smile transforms into an amused smirk at the show of familiarity. "Going soft on me?"

"Na, I just don't want to have to fight you again." Many a truth are indeed spoken in jest. It's just the two of them, no Philosophers, no KGB. No Cold War and no orders. No Naked Snake and no Major Ocelot.

Just Jack and Adam. And a few moments later, another bottle of alcohol.

They're just drunk enough to try to hold a casual conversation. "So, why Ocelot?" Snake asks, neither of them touching a drink they both ordered for the sake of having a drink together.

"All the good names were taken." Adamska is able to get just enough seriousness into his voice to leave Jack wondering if it's a joke or not. Regardless, he has to laugh. Ocelot doesn't return the question. Maybe because he knows, maybe because he doesn't care, or maybe because he knows where it'll go.

Ocelot talks about the weather; it's a safe topic, one that won't go near still healing wounds for either of them. He avoids lightning and thunder and storms and rain. Eventually he runs out of weather to talk about and goes silent, passing the baton to Jack.

Jack talks about how hard it is to buy something when you're not sure what its name is. He gestures with his hand and talks about people who can't understand basic descriptions.

When this topic is exhausted, neither one of them is brave enough yet to go to the topic they don't want to avoid. "You're drunk; I'll walk you to your hotel." Adamska finds this amusing, and expresses the sentiment with a drunken rendition of a smirk. For some reason, even though neither of them has touched their drinks, they seem to be getting more intoxicated.

Adamska almost argues for the sake of arguing, but concedes to the fact that he would, in fact, enjoy John walking him back to his hotel, despite the fact that he doesn't need to. He won't yet admit that it's what he wants.

The walk back to the hotel is quiet. Jack spends half the time looking at the scenery of Washington DC. And the other half of the time trying not to look at Adam. Somehow he always manages to catch glimpses of him on every reflective surface they pass, he looks at shop windows, at parked cars, and anything else that won't distort the image of the beautiful man beside him beyond recognition.

Jack manages to forget that he just thought of Adam as beautiful, the word being stricken from the records with almost unanimous consent within his mind. The part of him that cast the dissenting vote is bound and gagged for the remainder of the walk.

If he were just a bit more sober he'd laugh at his own actions. As it is, he's only sober enough to notice that Adam is spending as much time not looking at John, as John is spending not looking at him.

Adamska doesn't stop at the hotels entrance to say good-bye. His lack of pause or hesitation is all the invitation John is going to get, and he knows it. Adam has to spend a moment fumbling with his keys before he gets the door to his suite opened up and steps in side, leaving it open for Jack to follow.

Jack closes the door behind him. Normally he'd look around the room a little bit, but right now he only wants to look at Adam. The two of them stare at each other with the same intensity they had while facing off in the WIG.

"Adam." He had intended for there to be more than just that, but the words vanish somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

"John." It looks almost as though Adam is having the same problem.

"Call me Jack," and then he realizes that he doesn't have to say it out loud. Actions speak much louder than words, and he gets the feeling that actions are a language Adam is very fluent in. Jack steps forward and grabs Adam a bit more forcefully than he had intended, and the kiss is much rougher and more passionate than initially planned.

Adam doesn't really seem to care about the lack of finesse. He's too busy returning the favor to complain, even when they both topple drunkenly onto a couch, and later, onto the floor.

Snake and Ocelot might be enemies forever, but Jack and Adam are closer than brothers.

Ocelot groans miserably as consciousness is forced upon him. His world rises and falls rhythmically, as though he were on… a boat… perhaps… nothing quite fits with the sensation.

He's clearly aware of the smell of alcohol, both on himself, and the person he's lying partially on top of. When the ramifications of the latter part of that thought set in, he opens his eyes and tries to sit up, head spinning and hammering as he does. When his vision clears enough for him to recognize the groggy form next to him, he grins like a Cheshire cat, memories of the previous night parading merrily across his mind.

If it weren't for the severe hang-over, and soreness he's certain has nothing to do with alcohol, Adamska would be all for a reenactment of the previous night. But he concedes to his pounding head and lies back down where he was, smirking broadly.

Jack grins broadly despite himself as Adam rests his head on Jack's chest once more. Jack waits until he's sure Adamska is asleep again before bringing a hand up to pet his soft, golden hair. When this action elicits a purr from the sleeping man the grin turns into a smile.

He isn't quite sure at what point during the night they made it to the bed, only that they made a few very memorable pauses along the way. Jack comes to the conclusion that he most certainly wants to do this again sometime when he's completely sober and able to remember it all.

The chances of that not occurring seem very small indeed. For now, though, he is happy.

A/N: Not really sure what to say about this one… It really didn't turn out at all how I intended it, but I like it just the same. Considers trying to write something along how this was intended to turn out.


End file.
